


Peas in a Pod

by glyphsbowtie



Category: Marvel
Genre: Being anti-social, Christmas Fluff, Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 15:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glyphsbowtie/pseuds/glyphsbowtie
Summary: “What the hell are you doing here?” Clint demands, staring out at Bucky Barnes, who is leaning against the frame of Clint’s front door.“Christ, Barton,” Bucky smirks. “Is that how you greet all your guests?”





	Peas in a Pod

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JenJo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenJo/gifts).



> For the Marvel Holiday Swap :)

“What the hell are you doing here?” Clint demands, staring out at Bucky Barnes, who is leaning against the frame of Clint’s front door.

“Christ, Barton,” Bucky smirks. “Is that how you greet all your guests?”

He looks  _ good,  _ dressed in black slacks and a soft black jumper. His long hair is twisted up in a knot and there’s some stubble on his strong chin. Clint tries not to stare at the way his strong arms move as he signs along with his words.

“Yes,” Clint replies. He’s very aware of the fact that he looks like shit compared to Barnes. He hasn’t shaved in about a month, and he’s wearing sweats and an old t-shirt. “Are you coming in?”

Bucky’s smirk widens. It’s sinful, really, how attractive the former assassin is. Clint sighs as Bucky breezes past him, the scent of wood and leather clinging to him, and closes the front door.

“Sorry it’s a mess,” Clint says.

Bucky’s turned away from Clint, so if he says something, Clint doesn’t know what it is. That shiny, dark head turns as he surveys the general state of Clint’s apartment. Clint tries to see it through his eyes; they don’t know each other well, really, and Bucky hasn’t been here before. The place is littered in empty beer bottles and discarded shirts.

Turning back to Clint, Bucky smiles. “Where’s your Christmas tree?” he asks.

Clint snorts. “Sorry, you’ve rocked up here looking like some sort of goth prince, and you’re criticising my lack of Christmas tree?”

“A goth prince?” Bucky asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Shut up, Barnes.”

They face each other for a moment. Barnes has got intense eyes, and they burn into Clint, who finds it difficult to maintain eye contact with him.

“Do you want a beer?” Clint asks, giving up.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Bucky turns away, strolling over to Clint’s sofa.

Clint watches him push some empty bottles out of the way before sitting down delicately at one end of the sofa. He turns his body, so that his back is pressed against the arm of the chair, his legs folded in front of him, and Clint realises with a pang that he’s sat himself like that deliberately so that they’ll be able to face each other. He tries not to let his emotions cross his face as he heads over to the fridge and collects two bottles of beer.

When he sits down opposite Bucky, he realises that the sofa isn’t quite large enough for two men- one of whom is as large as Bucky Barnes is- to sit like this. Their legs are pressed against each other.

“Cheers,” Bucky smiles, clinking his bottle against Clint’s.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but what the hell  _ are _ you doing here?”

Bucky laughs out loud. Clint watches the way his face creases with it. He’s not sure he’s ever seen such unbridled joy on the guy’s face. It’s beautiful. Bucky wedges his bottle in between his knees so that he can sign. “Natasha sent me,” he says.

“Oh, fuck.”

Bucky is grinning again. “Well, she said you were probably going to be alone… and it’s Christmas…”

“Well, sure, but that’s how I planned my Christmas, Barnes. Anyway, where’s Rogers? You two not spending the holidays together?”

“We’re not joined at the hip,” Bucky retorts.

“That’s not how Tony tells it.”

Bucky glares at him. “He wanted to… hang out with other people. There’s a party.”

“Yeah, I got the invite.”

“I don’t want to hang out with all of those people,” Bucky says, his eyes growing distant. “Everyone is there. Even the fucking Fantastic Four.”

“I don’t think that’s the rebrand they’re going for in the new year,” Clint deadpans.

Bucky laughs again. He nudges his knee in a friendly manner against Clint’s. “Anyway, Natasha saw I was… uncomfortable. She said you’d be hiding away in your apartment and gave me your address.”

Clint doesn’t know whether he’s furious with Natasha or more grateful than he’s ever been to anyone in his life. His lovely day of getting pleasantly drunk alone has been ruined, but he’s now spending it with the lovely, chiselled face and body of Bucky Barnes, a man who- despite his occasional murderous impulses- is absolutely divine.

“I think she was hoping I’d nag you to download Tinder,” Bucky continues. “At least, that’s what she said. I’ve never used Tinder, but Peter told me- in length- what it is last month.”

“Of course you’ve never used Tinder. Women would be lining up to fuck you.” Clint tries hard to keep his face impassive. “Whereas I, on the other hand, haven’t touched a woman or a man in months.”

Bucky takes a drink of beer. “For the record, nor have I.”

That’s… interesting. Clint clears his throat. “Men, too?”

“Honestly, sometimes I think you people think you invented homosexuality. It was a thing back in my day, too, you know.”

“You sound like an old man when you talk like that, Barnes.”

“Sorry about that, young Barton.” Bucky is smirking. He has such lovely dimples. “But, yes- men almost exclusively, in fact.”

“That’s not how Rogers describes your youth,” Clint observes.

“Different times,” Bucky says. “It wasn’t like now.”

They sit looking at each other for a moment. Clint tries to tell himself that he has to look so carefully at Bucky’s beautiful face to read his lips- those plump, delicious lips which are currently perfectly still.

“Shall we download Tinder, then?” Bucky asks finally.

Clint feels no inclination whatsoever to look at any other men, not when James Barnes is sat opposite him. He considers this for a moment. “Look,” he says, finally. “I’m not a kid-”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed. All the grey hairs weren’t a  _ massive clue-” _

“- shut up, Barnes- and I tend to just smash my way through life in a sort of awkward whirlwind. I always say the wrong thing and I’m used to people looking at me like I’m a moron so I’m just going to come out and say this and if it offends you then, well, sorry.”

“Say what?”

“Well.” Clint clears his throat again. He’s suddenly finding it rather difficult to look at Bucky. “I think you’re… nice. You know. I think Nat knows, too, I guess that’s why she sent you over here-”

“You think I’m  _ nice?”  _ Bucky says, his eyebrows lowering. “You think the Winter Soldier is nice?”

Clint waves his hands vaguely. “Nice is the wrong word. Although, for the record, you are nice. I mean… pretty. Attractive.” He’s aware that his cheeks are scarlet.

“I see.” Bucky leans forward, so that his lovely face is very close. “Well, as it happens, I think the same thing about you- although you  _ aren’t _ nice, you’re a grumpy little shit- and I think that’s why Nat sent me over here, too.”

Clint swallows. “Oh. Wait- what? Seriously? What the fuck does a guy like you see in a guy like me?”

Bucky is smiling. “Well, we’re peas in a pod, right? Both hiding from the annual Avengers Christmas party. Both grumpy old assholes.”

“Both great with weapons,” Clint adds, his heart pounding.

“Well, one of us is.”

Clint opens his mouth, but Bucky kisses him, his surprisingly warm mouth pressing against Clint’s in a tender, gentle way. Clint doesn’t hesitate to kiss him back, reaching up to brush his thumbs against the stubble on Bucky’s chin.

“Merry Christmas, Barton,” Bucky breathes.


End file.
